Straying from Divine Decree
by Qiu Jin
Summary: An old diary and some new discoveries change Harry potter's path from the one we know. A better prepared Harry alters the course of the war.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer applies. I do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K Rowling and publishers

**Chapter 1**

Number four Privet Drive in Little Winging was in many ways a most ordinary household. It included for instance a most ordinary father, a man of the name Vernon Dursley, who believed himself to be perfectly respectable and was very proud of it too. He had a mediocre job at a dull factory that made drills, a nice car, a moustache that had taken him quite some time to get it the way it was now, and a very lovely wife and son. He had troubles now and then with his anger management, though he would deny this if ever accused. He despised owls and cats, but didn't mind dogs that much. Besides his wife and son, he also had a sister he liked very much, Marge Dursley. He had a love of food, especially if said food was fried of baked.

His wife, Petunia Dursley, was also a perfectly respectable and ordinary woman. She liked wearing dresses with flowers, listening in on conversations of their neighbors and indulging her chubby son, who was now almost 8 years old. She prided herself on her well-kept garden, the neat state of her interior and her dislike of anything that was not completely ordinary.

The last member of the Dursley family - as far as they were concerned- was their aforementioned son Dudley Dursley. Whatever they were thinking when they named their son such would've been anyone's guess, but fact was that the two elder Dursley's were very proud of their chubby, bordering on fat, bully of a son. Alright, he might not get the most amazing marks in school, but surely that was the fault of the teachers? And even if some of the other parents warned them that their lovely Dudleykins acted a bit spoiled, it was only because their children could never reach the amount of perfection that their son had in him? No, the Dursleys were quite content with their mostly dull lives. There was only one big annoyance that prevented them from being the epitome of being ordinary. And that big hindrance was called Harry Potter.

'BOY, get down here at once, and explain to me why the garden hasn't been mowed yet! Can you do nothing right, you good-for-nothing freak? I thought I clearly said that I wanted the grass to be mowed before Mrs. Garrison came over for tea , did I not? Now, you'll better get working at once, or it will be no food for you tomorrow'. Petunia's face had gotten a rather unattractive color during this tirade, and bits of spit could be found flying in the air. Harry watched them with a disturbed face, before looking down at his feet once more. 'Yes, aunt Petunia, I will start at once'. The meek reply from the boy contradicted sharply with the glint of rebelliousness in his eyes. Thankfully for the boy his aunt did not notice, or it would've been two days without food instead of one. You see, in the Dursley household lived also Harry Potter, Petunia's nephew. Harry Potter stood for many things that the Dursleys did not like. His hair, for instance, was much too stubborn, and his eyes were much too green. The list of things Wrong With Harry Potter would be very long indeed according to them. But the thing they despised the most about Potter, was his magical heritage. Something that Harry himself had no knowledge of, and which the Dursleys would like to keep that way as long as possible.

Harry had lived with the Dursleys since he was two years old, but the years with them had not been kind to him. At forty-six inches tall and forty pounds heavy, he was both too small and too thin for a eight year old. Petunia Dursley claimed it was because his freaky genes, Harry himself though it more likely to be because of lack of food. Instead of a bedroom, harry had a cupboard with spiders, and instead of a family who loved him and cherished him, Harry had to do with being despised and considered a burden. Petunia and Vernon always gave him more chores to do than the skinny boy could manage, and otherwise his cousin Dudley would make sure that it took him almost twice as long. Like now when he was trying to mow the garden. It had taken him half an hour before all Dudley's discarded toys were removed from the grass and he could begin with the actual work. After another hour in the burning sun the now thirsty boy was finally finished with his job.

Harry Potter was not a stupid boy, and experience had learned him that it was best to hide as soon as his chores were finished, before his aunt or uncle could think of something new for him to do. Taking a big glass and filling it with water, Harry tip-toed past the living room in which Vernon and Dudley were presently watching TV. Some show about the dangers of immigrants. Now and then you could hear uncle Vernon exclaiming loudly about job stealing intruders. When Harry was past the living room he let out the breath he'd been holding. Thank god, he really did not feel like cleaning the bathroom or some other stupid job his uncle would've likely given him. He then opened the door to the basement. The basement was an ideal hiding place. It was usually quite dark in there, since Vernon had been too lazy to replace the lightbulb. It had stopped working last month and the only light now could come from a flashlight. Furthermore, there were a lot of spiders and possibly mice in the basement. Petunia was scarred of spiders, and funnily enough Vernon had a fear of mice. And his fat cousin was frightened of the dark, spiders and mice, so there was no way he would ever venture into the basement. All in all the basement was a pretty good place to be at the moment, especially considering the hot wetter.

After Harry had made his way down the stairs, carefully balancing the glass of water, he sat down between some old cushions. He looked around him, his eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light. There was the box of books that Dudley had once gotten and had thrown down here without even looking inside. On the opposite wall stood a toolbox, with equipment that Vernon rarely used. And there were some discarded cookbooks from Petunia. The basement really was a mess. Curious and a bit bored Harry stood up from his place and began to look between the discarded boxes. He was busying himself that way when he came across a box, shoved in a dusty corner under the stairs.

Wiping the layers of dust that had gathered on the box over the years away with his sleeve, he read the black letters on the top. _Property Of Lily and James Potter_ was written with big curly letters. Harry's heart skipped a beat. He had nothing of his late parents, and Petunia would never talk about them either. This could be his change to finally discover what his parents were like. An exited smile decorated the little boy's face when he lifted the top of the box. It was full of various books, albums and objects. Harry could not wait to read and discover each one of them. And the best part was that he had the whole night to do so. The Dursley's would assume he was in his cupboard and would not disturb him seeing as they had visitors. Harry reached out and lifted the first album out of the box.

_To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't any of this, Harry Potter & co belongs to J.K Rowling

English is not my first language and I have no beta, so I apologise if my grammar isn't correct. Constructive criticism is of course always appreciated

**Chapter 2**

Harry had been sitting in the basement for hours now and his legs had cramped up. Not that he cared much at the moment. His attention was only on the box with his parents things. The first album he had opened was full of pictures, with all sort of people on them. There was a woman with beautiful red hair and fiery green eyes. Harry had concluded that that must be his mother. Next to this woman, - my mom, reminded himself- was usually a black haired man whose hair was even a worse mess than Harry's. He wore a pair of round glasses and had hazel eyes, that were full of love whenever he looked at Harry's mom. It took no genius to figure out that this man was his dad, seeing that in many ways he was an older copy of harry himself. Harry's eyes were full of wonder when he looked at the pictures, though it did not completely come from seeing his parents from the first time (as far as he remembered at least). No, it was also because the people in the pictures moved. Moved! Harry did not know that that was possible, and it had taken him awhile before he was convinced that he was not hallucinating. Maybe this was some strange new technology? And then the strange clothing the people in the pictures were wearing… 

Harry continued looking through the pictures. There were many more with his parents, but a handsome man with long black hair, whose eyes sparkled with mischief, another man with brown hair, and a scar on his upper face, and a smaller and fatter man with small eyes and a pudgy chin were also often photographed. The man with the sparkling eyes had a bit of a rebellious look and was usually laughing on the pictures. The man with the scar seemed a contradiction to the man with the sparkling eyes, and was usually photographed gently smiling at the antics of the Harry's dad and the other black haired man, he extruded an air of calmness. Harry liked him instantly. The third man however, Harry did not like. The beady eyes of the man in combination with the shape of his face, reminded Harry of a rat. Harry did not like rats, they were scary and spread diseases. He preferred mice over them anytime. 

Below one of the pictures was written _Sirius, Remus and Peter at our new house in Godric's Hallow._ After looking through a couple more Harry knew that the black haired one was Sirius Black, the kind-looking one carried the name Remus Lupin, and the man he did not like was named Peter Pettigrew. After more than an hour of watching the moving pictures, Harry put the album down. His hand went into the box again and he grabbed the an old looking book. After wiping the cover clean (again!). _Standard book of spells; Volume 2_, read the cover. Spells? Harry did not understand. Were his parents actors or something? That was the only explanation he could think of, but even to him it sounded farfetched. Hadn't his Aunt and Uncle told him that his parents did not have jobs? But remembering the photo album he decided that his aunt and uncle had probably lied about his parents. Still it did not fit completely. Opening the book he began to read;

_The __Patronus Charm__ (__Expecto Patronum__) is the most famous and one of the most powerful defensive charms known to wizardkind. It's an immensely complicated, very difficult spell that evokes a partially-tangible positive energy force known as a __Patronus__ or __spirit guardian__.__It is the primary protection against Dementors and Lethifolds, to which there is no other protection._

Harry stopped reading after that. He stared at the words on the yellowy pages till his eyes hurt, and then blinked a few times. Then he stared again. Wizardkind? Charms? Did that mean that.. That magic was real? Now to an ordinary person this conclusion would seem so farfetched they would laugh off as a joke. But Harry was no ordinary person. He had dreams sometimes of strange green lights and motorcycles that flew in the air. His favorite dream was about two men, who he now realized looked like the James and Sirius in the pictures, who turned into animals, a dog and a stag. Then there were also the unexplainable thinks that happened around him, like the time he was mad at a teacher and the teacher's hair suddenly turned blue. To Harry magic slowly began to sound a lot farfetched.

With his new speculations he began to look through the box again, coming across a another three books about spells, a book that seemed to be about potions, a book with all sort of strange animals in it (Fantastic beasts and where to find them the cover read), and a few weird object like a strange pair of dice, a chess set that moved on command and some ancient looking quills. Harry carefully studied all of his finds with such single mindedness that he didn't realize that the night began to draw to a close. The box was almost empty and when Harry looked in it again He saw that there was only one book left. This book looked different from the others. It was leader bound and on the top was spelled in golden writing "Journal of R.A.B". It looked both old and expensive and Harry carefully lifted it out of the box. When he took a closer look at the front he saw some stains that looked like blood. Frowning he opened the book. On the first page was written _Property of Regulus Arcturus Back _in a curly andorderly handwriting. Harry lifted his hand to turn to the next page when he heard a voice coming from the house.

'Petunia, the boy is not in his cupboard' Vernon's angry voice boomed through the house. 'Have you seen the freak'. Petunia's shrilly voice was soon heard too. 'No, I have not seen him. He cannot have run away, seeing that the doors are still locked.' Harry new that he was in trouble and quickly began putting the stuff back in the box. "There, look. There's light coming from the basement'. Dudley too seemed to have woken up from the commotion. Which honestly surprised Harry, seeing that it usually took until the smell of bacon spread through the house before Dudley got up.

The door opened and Harry quickly stuffed the dairy under his T-shirt. Light invaded the dark room and Harry had to avert his eyes because of its fellness. Vernon enormous silhouette could be seen walking down the stairs, all the while glaring at Harry. When Vernon was at the bottom of the stairs he turned his gaze too the box. He visibly paled when he realized what it was. 'Petunia, come here. Now. And make sure Dudley is in his room'. 'Something wrong darling? Did that blasted boy do something wrong again'? Petunia too went down the stairs. Which was rather a comic sight, seeing that her heels were much too high. Harry had too hold in his laugh. When Petunia stood in the basement, Vernon raised one fat finger and pointed it at the box. ''The boy found _it'. _The word _it _was laced with disgust. Petunia too took in the box. 'Boy, upstairs now, go to your cupboard' Her voice had become tight and her hand was clenched. Harry quickly jumped up the stairs, making sure that they did not see the diary hidden underneath his shirt. 

Harry had been in his cupboard for two hours now. He was too anxious to concentrate on the diary. Then he smelled it. Like someone had made a large bonfire. _The Box_. Rage filled him as soon as he realized what exactly was burning. Tears began pooling in his eyes. The photos, the only ones he had ever seen of his parents, _gone._ The books about spells and magical creatures, and everything else that had filled Harry with such longing, _gone. _The cupboard door was openedagain and a meaty hand grabbed Harry by his shirt and dragged him outside. It was cold outside. Colder than one would have expected from a late summer night. And indeed in the Dursley's back garden was a huge fire, with all the stuff from the box on it. The flames licking at the paper as it turned black, the words becoming illegible. As Harry's sight became hazier he had the odd thought that the smoke looked like that of Indian signals in Dudley's western movies. Harry heard Vernon's voice, but did not really comprehend what his uncle was saying. Something about freaks, and no food if Harry ever spoke about the box again. Right now it didn't matter. 

That night seemed longer than usual and Harry could not get to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the fire again, with all his new treasures on it. _Except the diary_, Harry reminded himself. He still had the diary, hidden under his pillow. He would've continued reading, but he had no light. He would have to steal a small flashlight from his aunt and uncle tomorrow. If Petunia and Vernon thought that he would just let this go then they were wrong. He knew now. About magic and his parents. There were more out there like him, there had to be. He had seen the books and pictures with all sorts of strange people in it. He would uncover the truth, even if he had to run away to do so. After all what had being with Dursleys ever got him, apart from missed meals and the occasional beating? 

The next morning a strange mood hang over the Dursley household. Harry had been let out of his cupboard as usual to prepare breakfast. His aunt and uncle had not said a word about the incident of yesterday night, but they were more quiet than normal and casted a weary glance in Harry's direction so now and then. Dudley seemed confused, and did not understand what had happened the night before and why his parents did not want to tell him. This however did not diminish his appetite.

Harry was grateful when it was time to go to school, the tension in the dining room had only gotten worse. He had crammed the diary in his schoolbag, not trusting his aunt to not look through his stuff in the cupboard. 

When Harry and Dudley got back from school the mood seemed have relaxed a tiny bit. Harry put his bag in his cupboard and began doing his chores while Dudley played some new videogame. Just before he started cooking dinner, uncle Vernon took him apart. 'Listen boy, what happened yesterday will never be talked about again. You will forget what you saw and if I ever so much as hear the m-word from you, you'll find yourself quicker out on the street than you've ever imagined, got it?' Vernon's grip on his arm had become painful, especially considering he still had the bruises from yesterday when he was dragged outside. Eyes downcast Harry answered 'yes uncle', making sure that his voice sounded appropriately meek. After dinner had been made and cleaned up again Harry went back to his cupboard, in his hand a small flashlight that he had grabbed from one of the kitchen drawers. When the house became silent and Harry could be sure that everyone was asleep he took the diary from under his pillow and opened it again. The faded pages were scribbled full and here and there was also a drawing. There also seemed to be pictures attached to some pages. Harry turned back to second page and began reading.

_13 January 1978_

_My first journal, a gift from my friend Severus. I'm supposed to write my thoughts down here, so let me begin._

I will try to post the next chapter within two weeks. Please let me know what you think.


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